Trust Me
by spaceduck10
Summary: Betrayed and left to die, Catro somehow manages to survive. But the betrayal has left deep cuts on both her body and her ability to trust. But maybe with the help of her newest friend, she can once again learn how to truly trust someone. Only rated M for intense battle scenes and a little bit of language. Pleas R&R and enjoy.
1. So We Begin

**Good day everyone! (Or night depending where you are) I hope you'll enjoy my new story. For anyone worried about my other story, don't worry. **_**I did not **_**abandon it, that wouldn't be cool. R&R everyone. Enjoy!**

Snow continued to fall heavily on that day in Skyrim. Catro walked along, angrily brushing the flakes off her arms. She glanced upwards, staring at the sky in anger. "Why does it always have to snow?" She asked, shaking her head to rid more of the flakes and the pulling her leather hood up quickly. "Because you live in skyrim." Arien remarked, walking behind her. "And if I had a choice, I would not be walking along a mountain trail in the middle of absolutely no where, hoping my compass doesn't freeze over and that we don't die in the snow." He laughed. " Oh calm down will you? I'm sure your compass isn't going to freeze." seeing that she was still angry, he jogged up beside her. "Hey I was only kidding" he said rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen, how about we just find a place to camp for the night? Its nearing sundown anyways. Maybe a cave, one filled with bandits!" he said enthusiastically. She turned her head to look back at him, smirking slightly at his comment. "Sounds good, I could use a de-stressor." She pulled the map out of her jacket, checking over it for an nearby caves. "Well there's one not to far from us actually. Cragstone Cave, sounds cozy." She tucked the map back into her armor, pointing in the direction they were to go. He nodded, and they were off.

Catro drew her bow, glancing around the large boulder at the bouncer outside. He was bent over, seeming to be messing with a crate. She watched for a bit, observing carefully as he stood, a chunk of raw and dripping venison in his hand. He seemed to be muttering something to himself, tossing the piece into the wolves cage. The beast was on it in a second, ripping strips off as the other growled in its cage, begging for food and attempting to fit its snout between the bars in a failed effort to steal from the other. The first wolf snapped at the second, moving into the far corner to finish devouring the bloody meat. The bouncer, still muttering to himself and the wolves, picked up another chunk of the meat from a crate, tossing it to the other wolf. She drew an arrow, keeping it focused on him, watching his movements, craving the right moment to strike. Then he made a mistake. He stood fully, turning to the cages and staring into the iron bars. He crossed his arms, his guard clearly lowered. She drew in a breath, steadily letting it out, and shot. The arrow whizzed through the air and an astounding speed. It only took milliseconds to reach him, piercing his neck and portraying out the other side. His knees gave out, and he slumped to the side, blood spewing from his fatal wound, splattering the ground. She stood, walking over to his corpse and looking down. A perfect shot, flawless in its flight and providing a sudden and painless death. She let out a sigh, turning to see Arien walk up behind her. He was glancing over at the wolves, who were still to distracted with their food to take notice of the two new faces, and the one dead one.

"So what do we do about those two?' He walked over, checking for a lock and seeing that it could be easily picked. "Apprentice lock." He said, scoffing. She looked down at the body. "Better not waste the lock picks. Let see if our friend here had a key on him." She checked each of his pockets carefully, finding a small fortune of seventeen gold, three lock picks, and one small key. "Worth a shot." she said. "Keep your bow drawn at the cage door, when I open it, fire." He nodded, pulling out the bow and a sharply tipped iron arrow. Fastening it into place and giving her a thumbs up. She nodding back, unlocking the cage and grabbing the bars tightly. The wolf looked up, snarling, suddenly aware that she was not the same person who fed it. She yanked the bars upward, and the wolf was on its feet, bolting out. Before it could get very far, the arrow pierced its skin. The wolf fell, thrashed for a few seconds, and then went limp. He pulled the arrow from its neck, reloading for the next cage. The next wolf had long since realized what had just happened, and was now throwing itself against the cage door, snarling angrily and barking. She unlocked the second cage, preparing the lift the cage. Suddenly it lifted itself. She stumbled back, realizing what had just happened, she grabbed the dagger from her belt, just in time to. The wolf lunged, pouncing on her and knocking her off her feet. Arien had already fired the shot, and had missed. He threw his bow down, reaching for his sword handle and ripping it out of the sheath. Catro grabbed the beasts neck. It snarled, white foam flying from its mouth, as it desperately tried to kill her. Its snout was mere inches from her face, and she could feel its hot, sickly breath. She gripped the dagger tightly in her gloved hand, ramming it up deeply into the wolves neck. It yelped, losing most of its strength and giving her an advantage. She threw it off herself, and it hit the ground a few feet away with a thump. The dirt was begging to stain red, but it still stood, a trail of blood flowing from its mouth. Arien took the advantage, he ran up behind it, slicing his sword down the side of its neck. It fell to the ground, its soulless eyes going dark, and dead.

She panted, wiping its blood off her facing and catching her breath. She stood up, brushing dirt off her pants and ripping the dagger from its neck, re-fastening it to her belt. Arien walked over, a panicked look on his face. "Catro, are you okay?" He asked, clearly worried. She was slightly dazed, shaking her head to clear it. "Yeah" she said, her thoughts clearing. "I'm fine." they both looked down at the now dead monster. Silence filled the air, and the breeze blew softly, blowing snow against them. She realized again just how cold it was and rubbed her arms. "Lets just get inside and take out the rest of them okay? Nothing fancy, stealthy if you can." He nodded, and they walked to the entrance, pulling there bows out and stealthy heading into the cave.

After navigating there way in around a few boulders, the air began to change. It was oddly warm and scented with fresh spices and mead. They moved carefully and quietly, slipping around each corner with their bows at the ready if needed. She stopped, holding up her arm with a signal for him to halt as well. Another guard was up ahead. He was leaning lazily on the wall, arms crossed and eyes closed. He hadn't seen them yet, so they had an advantage. She held up her hand in a fist, a sign that she would take him. She drew a long ebony arrow, admiring the sharpness and precision of it, even after all the times it had been fired. Locking it into place she drew the bow back, aiming directly at his chest. There was a small gap in his iron armor, a small flaw, but if she fired at just the right spot it would hit his heart, killing him quickly and silently. She drew in deeply, letting the breath out steadily, and fired. The arrow did its job, finding the gap and piercing deeply into his flesh and striking his heart. He had no time to react, falling to the floor with a soft clink. She went over to him, checking for a pulse and seeing that there was none. She signaled to Arien the all clear. "Go ahead and check his pockets for anything useful" she pointed to the small wooden platform just ahead where light sound and smell were flooding in "I'm going to see what were up against." He nodded, crouching down and looking for any keys or useful items. She inched forward onto the platform, slowly standing halfway to assess there competition. A large area opened up below her, full of soft music and light. Observing each of them separately, she began to calculate each of there abilities. There was a large pit containing a wolf and a carcass of some sort. Seated around that were two gamblers, each talking in a low voice and occasionally laughing. In the far right corner she could make out a bar with a women seated at it and a tender wiping down a few tankers with a dirty looking rag. A few feet to the left of the bar, a man was singing in deep voice. _"and some one had to die"_

She pulled her hood off, then watched each of them, creating a strategy in her mind. The barkeeper had a steel dagger fastened to his hip. He was obviously very fit and didn't exactly look very nice. The woman seated had no weapon, and was drinking heavily from her cup. She finished all the liquid and slammed it down, silently demanding more. The tender set down his prior engagement, picking up a bottle of wine and filling her glass. The second he had finished, she began drinking again, and he went back to cleaning the mugs. The singing man continued to drone on, and with a closer look, she could see that he was tending to fire witch a pot hung over. The two gamblers continued to chat, each were slightly intoxicated, and she could tell that they were very off there guard. One had a glass dagger strapped to his belt, but was very under dressed for a fight. From the looks of it, there was barely a threat. The only two that seemed the least bit dangerous were the dagger wielding duo. Then her eyes caught something. The other gamblers clothes, they were mage robes. _"That changes things now doesn't it" _she thought. Arien tapped on her shoulder. She turned and crouched low to the ground. "What are we up against?" He whispered. "She motioned for him to look. They stopped at just eye level, enough to see the whole area but not be noticed in the process. "The bartender is defiantly a fighter. His only weapon seems to be a dagger but when combined with brute force, that can be deadly. And that's not our only concern, see the gambler farthest away from the bar? Mage robes. Those are the primary threats, after that there shouldn't be much of a fight." He stared down at them, and then looked back at her. I'll take out that bartender, you get the mage." She nodded back to him. "Sounds like a plan." They both silently drew there bows, knocking arrows and taking aim. "Ready when you are." She focused on his chest, lining the arrow up to strike his heart, and gave the command. "Fire."

The second those two fell all hell broke lose. All conversation halted, all the music and cooking, it was replaced by there rage and hunger to kill. Catro fastened the bow to her back, drawing the two ebony swords from her sides. Arien did the same as they charged down the ramp. The bard grabbed a nearby pickaxe, angrily raising it over his head and running at them. Catro was the first to react, she jumped onto the railing, sliding down faster then he could run. She reached the end, and planted her foot in the ground. He swung at her, a blow she easily dodged. He continued to swing at her like a mad man, yet she easily dodged each blow, weaving around him like a dancer. He swung hard at her head and she step to the side, coming up behind him. She pulled her swords back, gritting her teeth and jamming them into his back. He stopped struggling and she ripped her swords back out, spinning around to see Arien against the gambler. He was using the dagger and angrily slashing against her comrade. She bolted over, bringing her swords up and pointing them at his chest. Arien saw her coming, he deflected the punch the man threw at him, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. He pushed hard, sending the gambler straight into her swords. He flinched, then fell hard. They both turned to the drunk lady. She smashed a mead bottle on the counter, and pointed the jagged end at them, and flung herself forward. Catro grabbed her wrist, causing her to drop the bottle and look up in fear. "Now I know that you're not stupid enough to go picking a fight with me, so how about you drop all intentions of attack us and leave, making sure you never look back." She stood shocked, then fearfully nodded, taking off towards the door at a frightened pace. They walked into the next room, finding more wolf cages and taking care of the monsters inside.

Catro shook her head. "Lets see what they were cooking huh? I'm starved." He walked over, wiping the blood off his sword. "Yeah me to." She strode over to the pot, lifting the lid off and looking inside. "Well looks like our friends made dinner for us." She joked. "It looks great! They might have been bandits but they sure knew how to cook." He laughed, walking over to the bar. "Whoa full stock, nice." She walked over and sat on the stool. "Is there any Black Briar Mead?" She asked, putting her elbows up and the bar in her head in her hands. He crouched down, shuffling around some of the bottles with a soft clinking sound. "Lets see, Wine, Ale, Oh here it is, full bottle to." He handed her the bottle. She smiled and gratefully took it. She looked back over at the pot. "See if you can find some bowls to. He went back to rummaging around and she walked over to the pot. There was a long wooden spoon lying on a wooden plate next to it. She grabbed it, opening the pot and stirring. Arien walked over holding two bowls and spoons in his hands. She took one of them, filling it generously and then the other, handing one to him. He took it gratefully smiling. They walked back over to the bar, sitting to eat and drink.

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Arien took another swig of his ale, scarfing down the rest of his stew with it. "So what's are plan when we get to Riften?" He asked. She swallowed the mouthful of food, wiping her face. "Well we haven't been there in awhile, no doubt Mercer won't be happy about that. But I did finish that job he asked me to do so I'm sure his rage wont last long." He chuckled at that. "Okay anything else?" She thought about it for a moment. It had been about a month since she was last in Riften, and she hadn't seen Keerava in a while. "Well I want to stop into the bar and catch up with Keerava, she asked me to visit the next time was in town." He nodded, standing up and stretching. "I think its about time we turn in for the night, what do you say?" She stretched her arms. "I'm beat. Sounds like a plan." They stacked the empty dishes on the counter. Catro Grabbed the pack off her bag, unfastening a bed roll and setting up not to far from the fire, enjoying its warmth. Arien did the same on the opposite side, spreading out the animal skin on the ground. Catro set her bag next to a large rock, propping it up and pulling out a book. Arien pointed his sword up into the air, admiring its edge and pulling out a chunk of ebony he often used to sharpen it. The fire crackled in the dark cave, and tiredness began to grab her. She yawned, causing Arien to look up, lifting his eyebrow. "Sleepy?" He asked. She shook her head yes at him, crawling under the bed roll and looking at the fire. Call it a bad habit, but she always slept with her sword. A bad experience as a kid ensured she never went anywhere without at least a sword. Arien put his sword down, crawling under his roll as well. The fire began to die slowly, and the low light ensured that they both fell deeply into sleep.

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A soft scuffing sound awoke her. Her eye shot open but she didn't move, just listened. She glanced over to Arien, only to find with a horrific shock that he wasn't there. She gripped the handle to her blade, taking in her surroundings. The fire was lower now, only a few flames flickered in the pit and mostly embers remained. A dull orange light lit up the area, giving off an ere feeling. She still refused to move, waiting for anything that might give her the slightest idea to what was happening. Suddenly her ears picked a sound, faint but there. Someone was walking towards her, not fast but not slow either, just controlled. She could tell they had a sword, it scraped on the ground slightly. It had only touched for a second, but the sound was unmistakable. She readied herself to fight, holding tight to the swords, and waiting. They crept closer until she could feel them standing over her. She took the opportunity, rolling out of the bedroll onto the cold and dirty ground, holding her sword up just in time to block a blow that would have been fatal. She couldn't make out there face, but could tell that they were a man. She deflected another blow, this one aimed for he head. "Wh-who are you? And what's with the death wish?" she asked, struggling to hold his sword back. _"He's strong I'll give him that" _she thought. Suddenly the sword slipped, catching her arm slightly. She jumped back, grabbing her arm and realizing that blood was now staining her gloved hand. She whipped her head up, a new fire burning in her eyes. "Alright," she said, drawing the second sword. "No more child's play." She moved her foot back, raising one of the swords high above her head, her signature stance. The figure flung himself at her again, his swords were close together like one giant spear. She jumped to the side, expecting him to crash into the rock wall behind her. He instead twisted his foot, lunging at her again. He caught her side slightly, but she ducked in time for it to be minor. As his arms went flying over her, she grabbed his legs, flipped him over her and causing him to crash to the ground.

She stood, realizing suddenly how bad her arm hurt. He didn't give her much time to react, jumping to his feet again and slashing at her. She raised her sword, deflecting his blow to the side. _"Something about the way he's attacking is so familiar…damnit where's Arien when you need him!" _She thought bitterly. Raising her swords again, she motioned for him to attack her again. He slashed his sword sideways at her, but she was quick to react. Raising her left hand, she used the sword to absorb the blow. She planted her left foot deeply into the ground, stepping closer with her right, and bringing her right handed sword around at him. It should have cut right into him, but it didn't. Somehow he saw the move coming and blocked it. Before she could react further he head butted her. She stumbled back, grabbing her nose that was now spewing blood. He came at her again, but she was ready this time. He slammed his sword down, creating a loud clinking sound. It echoed off the walls each time there swords came in contact. They continued this sparring game, each waiting for the other to slip up, to give them an advantage, but it didn't come. Catro began to get angry, she waited for him to strike again. He brought his sword down hard, she deflected it off to the side, grabbing his wrist and kicking him hard. He jumped back, each of them heavily panting. She readied herself again for another match, but to her surprise, it didn't come. He stood fully, and backed into the darkness. She looked to where he had been, refusing to drop her guard. She looked around, searching for any sign of where he had gone. She glanced around desperately, her blades still drawn and ready for action. A rock fell from somewhere in the darkness, and she turned swiftly, glancing through the darkness for any sign of life.

A boot suddenly collided with her stomach, sending her flying back where she hit the wall. She fell to the ground next to the dying fire. In the dull light, she could see that he was walking towards her. She grabbed her sword, standing up and then slumping on her knee. He held a sword and her shoulder. "Who..who the hell are you?" She asked, amazed that he could so easily predict everyone one of her moves. "Oh Catro, if only you weren't so trusting." She nearly stopped breathing, everything in the world seemed to halt. "No.." was all she could whisper out. "Yes." He said back. Arien stepped further into the light, smirking evilly down at her. "Oh so trusting, how else would someone know all your moves." She stared up at him, her mouth hanging open. "But, Arien, why? Why do any of this?" His smile widened. "Why? Because I'm tired of playing the hero's side kick, I'm thinking of going solo. Who knows, maybe I'll even change the world." She would have been mad. She would have angrily grabbed her swords, and lunged at him, but she couldn't move. He was her best friend, they had become so close, such good friends, and he had betrayed her. Just out of random they were no longer friends. He intended to kill her, and there was nothing she cold do but watch. He raised his sword suddenly, aiming to bring it down and strike the fatal blow. Her body reacted on pure instinct, she grabbed the swords, pointing them upward and jamming them into his chest. But he hadn't completely failed. His sword had struck her shoulder, leaving a deep cut that began the bleed profusely.

He dropped down onto his knees. Shocked at her reaction, she pulled the swords out. He calmly looked down at his chest. Blood began to pour out and pool on the ground. He looked back up at her. He coughed, spraying even more blood on the wall and on her face. He fell, and she could tell from where she sat that he had stopped breathing. Her best friend laid on the ground in front of her. Hours earlier they had eaten diner, laughed joked. They had cleared the cave, fought together, and now he was dead. She crawled over to him, checking for a pulse. She sat for a few minutes, feeling nothing. The last of the fire began to die. She tried to stand, suddenly realizing the amount of pain she was in. The slash on her arm and side were combing with the sharp pain in her shoulder. She forced herself up anyways. Stumbling over to her bedroll, she picked up the bag, slinging it over her good arm. She glanced over, feeling sick but reluctantly picking up Arien's bag and heading up the ramp. She stumbled through the cave, hitting the morning air. She fell to the ground on her knees, dropping the bag. She held a hand over her mouth, trying to hold down her dinner, and failing. She hacked at the ground for a good ten minutes, wanting to scream and cry all at the same time. She looked up at the sky where a few morning stars twinkled, wishing she could take the night back. But there was no going back now.

She stood, taking the bags and heading off down the road. She clutched her should that was still trickling blood. Willing the pain to stop, she looked down the road. "Okay, focus. I'm not that far from Riften, I'm sure I can make it that far. No, I have to." She shuffled forward, stumbling a few times but managing to stay upright. "Alright Catro come on, you can do this. Just put one foot in front of the other and you're halfway there." She shuffled off towards Riften, wanting desperately to leave the cave, the night, the fight, everything behind her. But I sudden loneliness and feeling of pain shot through her heart when she turned out of habit to check for Arien, and he wasn't there.

**Wow. Dark. I promise the story gets better ****J**** I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Immediately after I post this I'll be working on the second one. Leave a review if you liked the story! New chapter up soon!**


	2. Travel and Reflection

**This probably should have been mentioned last chapter. To pronounce the names, here's a key. Catro (Kat-row) Keerava is (Key-raw-va) lastly, and very sadly, Arien is (Are-e-en) There you have it. Enjoy this chapter! Many nights were spent on it O_O**

**Please leave a review! I love reading them**

The road leading to Riften was always astoundingly beautiful. The snow had long since stopped, and the trees sparkled with a fresh, dazzling white blanket. Mountain flowers were blossoming all along the road, creating brilliant explosions of color. They stood out in the snow covered ground, freshly blossoming in the mornings caress. The sun rose slowly, burning brightly in the sky and chasing away the cold of night. The morning birds had begun to sing there sweet songs, twittering happily and jumping from each branch and fluttering thought the air with expert movements. The world began to awake with a montage of morning sounds, sights, and smells. The sight was incredibly beautiful, Catro would have stopped and enjoyed it, breathing in every scent of the morning and carefully observing each detail. She would scamper around like a child, wanting to pick the fresh flowers or carefully watch the birds, absorbing there sound, but she was to focused on keeping upright and not bleeding out on the cold ground. She had stumbled down the road, unable to walk straightly, leaving a trail of blood splotches littering the pathway behind her. It stained the pure white snow a bright red color, and she was fiercely hoping that it didn't attract any hungry predators. . Her right hand was clamped tightly over the deep cut on her shoulder, a blow that would have been fatal if her instincts hadn't kicked in. She was using her other hand to clutch her side, attempting to keep pressure on the wound in a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. The hours seemed to drag on as she continued to limp heavily from the exhaustion that was gripping her, trying desperately to keep moving and stay on her feet. This wasn't the first time she had been heavily damaged, Catro was a warrior and she fought like one. She had engaged in to many battles and fights to count, and had been injured many times. But this was different. Her best friend who she had traveled with, who she had told every secret to, who put a smile on her face everyday, was now lying dead on the cold floor of a cave. It had been so unexpected, and the total shock had gripped her like an iron fist that refused to let go or even loosen its grip in the slightest. Her face was twisted in an expression of pain, anger, and sadness. She clenched her teeth tightly, and her eyes were full of nothing but pain and exhaustion.

Every event replayed itself in her mind a hundred times over. Her head was pounding, trying to process every detail at once. For awhile she had refused to believe it., she wanted to turn around and see Arien standing there. She wanted to watch him fix his long brown hair so it wasn't hanging in the way of his crystal blue eyes. Hoping in her heart that he was still there didn't help, only had it forced her to relive every detail of him. She could still see him if she closed her eyes. He wore a set of reinforced leather armor with thick black pants. His steel swords were always fastened to his sides and a hunting bow adjusted on his back. She had always offered to get him better armor, insisting that he protect at least his chest better, last night had proven why. He had looked at her with such a look of innocence on his face, smirking and remarking that "You don't need good armor, you just need to know how to fight." It hurt her heart to think about, any thoughts of him brought back a flood of memories. Almost a year they had traveled together, and nothing about him had ever even given her the slightest hint of his intensions. Together they had laughed, been in pain, recovered and then fought again. Together they had lived there lives. And now he was gone. She stopped walking for a second, grabbing onto a large oak tree for support. She was a warrior. She knew pain, she knew how to keep fighting even when everything else looked grim. Strength was her ally, and also her captor. And for the first time in a long time, she cried.

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Traveling to Riften never actually took a long amount of time. The road was almost straightforward, with wide curves and very few obstacles. Every so often it would slant slightly upward, but it was gradual and could be easily overcome. She was grateful for the simple layout, hoping to get to the gates soon. Glancing up at the sky, it was already a little past midday, the sun high up in blue sky, burning warmly down on her. On a normal day, it might have taken her a little less then half a day to get there. This was not the case with her injuries. The blood flowing from her side had lessened slightly, still oozing but not gushing blood. Her shoulder, on the other hand, had not lessened in the slightest. She began to fear bleeding out more then anything, losing consciousness and falling to the snow covered ground, leaving the wolves to drag her away. Two days before she had run out of potions, using the last one after a nasty run in with a group of Falmer, and her weariness had sapped every bit of energy from her. She didn't have the strength to cast any healing spells. She raised her head, still searching for any sign of life, and signs to show the way, or the wonderful sight of Riften's gates. Stumbling again she continued, when something to the right caught her attention. An abandoned campsite jutted out from the road. An old fire pit black with ash blew silently in the wind, with the branches cleared from an area people had obviously slept. She craved a rest, wanting to stop for awhile, try to regain some strength, but she knew that would be a death sentence. If she waited to long or couldn't get back up, she would die in the wilderness. Her legs ached with exhaustion, yet she forced herself to continue.

The day was begging to come to a close as fast as it had begun. Everything seemed to go bye in a blur as she continued on the path. The sun was beginning to set, and with it would come the cold of night, she had to make it to town soon or risk freezing to death in the dark. The loss of blood was starting to interfere with her senses, but she tried her best to push past it. She rounded another corner, starting to feel the chilly wind that blew in the night. Her body temperature had defiantly dropped due to the open wounds, and the wind that blew and kicked up snow was not helping. And then with a sudden panic, she realized that she was beginning to slow down. She forced herself onward, but the pain and dizziness was beginning to become overwhelming. Then, like a miracle, she saw something that gave her a burst of hope. A wooden sign was planted at the spilt road not to far ahead. Her legs jumped with a new energy to it, and she grabbed to the wooden post for support. A large wooden arrow pointed left, with the words "Riften" carved into it and covered with black paint. That had to mean that town was not far ahead. She pushed off the sign with her good hand, wandering down the road in an effort to get there quickly. But she was not stupid. If she exerted to much energy now, she would fall, never even seeing the gate. So she set off at a controlled pace, survival on her mind. The sky was turning a reddish color, swirled with a brilliant orange that lit up the sky. Night was approaching fast.

She continued the journey, refusing to give into the pain or exhaustion that held onto her so tightly. It clamped her tightly like the jaws of a wolf, and she still harbored guilt and pain deeply in her heart. The cold was becoming more present, wrapping her in a blanket of chills as she still struggled to walk along. The birds that had once sang thought the day began to grow silent with the presence of the dark, being replaced with the whistling wind and the cooing of night animals. She was panting heavily now, and her eyes were drooping with exhaustion. The lights of the sky began to fade, and new stars began to peak through. She glanced up at the sky, admiring the bit of beauty. She had been dazed all day, and still was dizzy from the loss of blood. She shook her head, attempting to replenish the blood flow in her head. Catro stumbled again, gritting her teeth at the pain. She looked down at her hand, finding it caked in her own blood. She grabbed her side again, trying to shake off the disturbing sight. The wind blew again, more forceful this time, carrying snow and freezing cold air that struck her face. She tucked her head down, fighting against the bitter air until it finally subsided. She raised her head again, her teeth still clenched tightly in an effort to keep them from chattering loudly. She rounded another corner, nearly crashing into a pine tree but catching herself. She looked forward again, and a sudden relief flooded over her. Just through the trees she could make out the wooden guard tower that sat outside of Riften. She smiled weakly, forcing herself along, but she wasn't done yet. The pathway changed from dirt to stone under her feet, a clear indication that she was nearing the gate. The sun had long since set throwing the world into darkness with the exception of millions of twinkling stars that littered the sky.

The double towers came more into her sight, and she could just make out the large stone wall that surrounded the city and led to the gate. She made it up to the towers, glancing up and seeing that the guards were already in the barracks. A sudden dizziness reminded her again just how much blood she had lost as she stumbled up the hill. The gate was in sight now, and of course, still no guards. She grabbed the gate handle, using most of her remaining strength to push the piece of old wood open. The gates to Riften were fortified in a quite unique way, they were heavy to push open to avoid easy attacks, but easy to push from the other side. She shoved it open, nearly collapsing with the amount of strength it took. The streets were dark without a single face in sight, and lights could be seen on the inside of most of the buildings. She forced herself forward, holding tightly onto her wounds, trying to make it to the bar. Her foot nearly gave out as she grabbed onto the door handle. Music was playing softly on the inside, and people could be heard laughing and drinking. With the very last bit of her strength, she managed to push the door open. Light flooded out immediately, and everything instantly became louder. There was a bard in the corner, playing a sweet sound on his lute. A few men were at the bar, and one was eating dinner quietly. She stepped in, staring in the direction of the bar. Keerava was handing one of the man a fresh bottle of ale, smiling brightly at the amount of people in her bar. She glanced over at the door, her face still holding a bright smile to greet any new guests. It immediately changed, her face dropped into a look of concern and panic. She nearly tripped running out from behind the bar and to the door. Catro fell to one knee, still clutching her side and clamping her teeth tightly together. Keerava skidded to a halt beside her. "Catro! Oh gods what happened to you?" She almost put her hand on her friends shoulder, suddenly noticing the deep gash there and how she was clutching her side. The conversations all halted. The drinking stopped and the bard no longer played his instrument. "Talen for god sakes come help me!" She yelled at her husband across the bar who had been nearly frozen in place. He snapped out of the dazed trance, racing over by the injured warrior. "Can you walk?" She said, crouching down beside her. "No." she choked out. "Almost didn't make it here. I used the last of my strength to open the door." She gritted her teeth in pain again as they carefully helped her up. Keerava looked her in the face, with a sudden serious tone. "Where's Arien?" she asked. The bar had become absolutely quiet at this point, no one daring to speak or to shocked to utter a word. She lowered her head, shaking it. Keerava looked over to Talen. "Hold her up, I'll go grab some rags and then we can help her upstairs." She pulled the small one off her apron to wipe Catro's face off, then suddenly she stopped. "Catro is there a wound on your head? What's all this blood from?" She put a hand over her mouth, nearly chocking. "It's not mine." She paused at that for a few minutes, then wiped her friends face off, a look of concern planted on her face. She ran over to the bar, grabbing a handful of rags and medicine. "Talen take her bags off, I'm sure she can barely stand let alone hold them." He took the two bags off each of her shoulders, slinging them over his. Catro looked up in her dazed state, staring around the bar at all the faces that looked back at her.

Then her eyes focused in the far corner of the room. Through her dizziness and dreary eyes, there was a guy staring right at her. His head was slightly tilted, and she could tell he wasn't just concerned, but curious. Suddenly they were halfway carrying her around the corner and up the stairs. They opened the doors to one of the unoccupied rooms, sitting her on the bed. "Ahhh, easy, easy." She said, half conscious but still very aware of the pain. Keerava poured some water on a rag, pressing it gently onto her shoulder. She held it in place while asking Talen for something. She tried desperately to listen, but was fading in and out of the world, her back pressed against the wall. A sudden burning brought her out of the trance. Her eyes went wide and she let out a yell of pain. They had to clean the wound out of course, but it hurt like a bitch. "Ah Shit! That hurts, oh my god OW." She grabbed a rag, biting back another yell. Keerava poured in a bit more water, relieving the burning slightly. "Alright now Catro I need you to move your hand." She hadn't realized that her hand was still clamped tightly over the wound. She let go, causing Keerava to grab her hand to assess the damage. "Not to deep on her hand, most of the blood is from her side." She wiped her friends hand off gently, repeating the process of cleaning it and then adding a bit of water. "Her shoulders dried up." Talen said, grabbing the bottle of medicine and a small, thick bandage. He took the bottle, slowly pouring the liquid into the deep cut on her shoulder. She clamped the rag, biting a scream into it. He applied the bandage to the worst part, smoothing it down. "Okay Talen wrap her hand up, I'll take care of her side." Keerava looked at the deep gash, picking up another wet rag and pressing it into her side. "This is going to hurt, a lot. Okay?" Catro nodded, knowing it was necessary. "Just do it quick" she remarked, he voice hoarse and barely above a whisper, leaning slightly to the side to allow her friend easy access. Talen finished wrapping her hand and grabbed onto her good shoulder. "You'll be okay champ." He said smiling down. She nodded back up, knowing it was going to hurt but glad her friends were there for her. Keerava dumped the alcohol onto a rag, quickly pressing it into her skin. She grabbed the covers on the bed, twisting them and screaming into the rag. Her side burned like fire, and she jerked her head back against the wall. She screwed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to stop and nearly blacking out. Keerava poured the cold clear water into to, providing instant relief to the burning pain. Catro stared down, watching her apply the medicine and a thick white bandage. "Thanks Talen, but I think you should go back to tending the bar, and clean up that blood in the doorway." He left swiftly, going back down the rickety stairs and into the busy bar, trying to explain what had just happened to the guests that were still in shock. Keerava gently took the rag she had been using. "Lets get this armor off and you bandaged up hmm?" She said, tugging at the chest plate. Catro tried to help her, but was almost to tired to lift her arms. She laid the tattered and bloodstained guild armor on the nightstand, picking up the cotton bandages and wrapping them around Catro's midsection with expert hands. "You know I used to work as a nurse on the frontlines, I was everyone's favorite." She laughed to herself quietly, looking down at her friend. Her eyes were closed with exhaustion, but Keerava's curiosity got the best of her. "Catro." She began gently. "What happened out there." The thoughts flooded back to her. She wanted to vomit and cry at the same time. She swallowed heavily, trying to keep her breathing under control. But someone had to know what happened, better her friend then anyone else. She took in a deep breath letting it out slowly and opening her eyes.

"We found this cave. It was kind of small, not to hard to clear out so we did. There were bandits in there, they must have been in the middle of cooking diner, so we just decided to stay there for the night." She swallowed, fighting back tears that brimmed in the corners in her eyes. "It was probably about four in the morning when something woke me up, some sound in the dark. I didn't want to move, didn't want to let them know I was awake. I remember looking over and…" She trailed off slightly, looking up at Keerava who gave her an encouraging nod, tying off the tight white bandaging around her sides. "He wasn't there. Just…gone. I grabbed my sword and got up, good thing I did. This guy just attacked me." She chocked slightly, still refusing to give into tears. "We fought for awhile, that's when he caught my side and hand. I got him good to, knocking him back, but he just backed into the darkness. I couldn't see him, and suddenly I was flung back against the wall and he came over to me. I couldn't see his face, but then he spoke and…" She could no longer hold back the tears. They streamed in long lines down her face as she tried to continue without stuttering. "Why did I trust him Keerava, what made me so blind?" Keerava gently took her hand. "Its okay Catro, you can cry, but I need to know who it was." She nodded, more tears flooding her face. "Arien." She whispered. "It was him, he wanted to kill me all along." She began crying again, hard this time. Keerava had never in her life seen her this way. She hugged her friend tightly, softly shushing her. "Hush darling, you'll wear yourself out even more. Lets get these bandages finished and you can get some sleep." She quieted her crying, nodded and allowed Keerava to wrap the cloth around her shoulder. A wave of fatigue hit her as Keerava helped her pull on her undershirt, falling into the soft bed. Keerava pulled the covers up over her friend, realizing that she was already asleep. She picked up the armor, carrying it to her room and setting it on the desk. She intended to sew the rips and clean out the blood, anything to help. She sat in the chair, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. _"Those two were inseparable, a real pair, best friends. I wonder what made him snap so easily." _She thought to herself. Shaking her head, she stood and walked down the rickety stairs to get back to work.

**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/ **

A small blue bird fluttered swiftly through the air, dodging through each tree and perching on the open window's wooden frame. It stretched its wings and began to sing a soft melody that echoed through the morning air. Catro's eyes began to flutter, then flashed open. She jolted upright in a panic, suddenly remembering where she was and dropping her guard. A dull pain gripped her shoulder and side, and then a wave of memories hit her like a strong wind. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood. Her legs, a bit wobbly at first, supported her weight, ensuring that she had rested for at least a few hours. She looked down, making sure she was dressed before she opened the door. Her dark brown undershirt was practically a tank top, with thick black straps that ran up over her shoulders. Her thick brown pants had been replaced with comfortable black silky ones. She grabbed the handle and creaked the door open. It was morning time in the bar, meaning that most of the night residents ad left and that the dining area was probably housing a very select number of people. To the right was a hallway that contained all the rooms, some doors opened and some tightly closed. A table with two chairs was just in her view, and a candle holder was burning brightly on it. Glancing the other way, she could see about two more rooms and the wooden stairs that led downstairs. She went to move, grabbing her side as a sharp pain shot through it. She pulled her shirt slightly up, seeing that bandages were wrapped all the way around, holding the wound tightly in its cloth embrace. She dropped her shirt, clasping her hand over it, slightly remembering the night before. She had been very dazed from losing all the blood, remembering about half of what had happened, and that fact that she had told Keerava what happened. The next thing she noticed was how hungry she was. The smell of food and drink wafted in from downstairs, luring her over to the old rickety boards and starting down them. She heard a few voices, and no music had begun to play yet. It was still morning, and she began to distinguish the smell of breakfast. As she got closer to the bottom, she begun to make out some of what they were saying.

"Keerava bring me some ale would you?" Someone said, there voice full of annoyance. "Don't you think its just a little to early to drink?" Keerava retaliated. She heard a bottle open and foot steps, then the quite pouring into a tanker. "When you're me, its never to early to drink." The voice say again, chuckling at his own comment. Keerava made an annoyed sound and then sighed. "I don't know about you sometimes." She said. Catro could hear the familiar squeak of her polishing a cup as she walked away. The voice laughed again, "See the thing is, I don't quite know about myself." She cleared two more stairs, smiling slightly at the strangers comment. It was wrapped in an odd truth, considering she didn't even know what to believe anymore. Clearing the last step, she grabbed onto the wall with the hand not holding her side, staring into the brightly lit bar. There were a total of three people in the area itself. Keerava was behind the bar, polishing a few cups with a small rag. One man was sitting at a table quite close to her. He was enjoying a apple and had a tired look on his face. Three apple cores litter the table in front of him. The younger man was sitting at a table close to the bar. His feet were propped up on the table and he was rocking back in his chair. One hand was behind his head and the other was hold a tanker full of ale. _"So that's were the voice came from.."_ She thought, not noticing that Keerava had set the glass down, and was glancing up. She froze, both anger and concern burning on her face. "Catro!" She yelled. Catro looked over to her, her face still plastered with a look of confusion. Keerava threw the rag down, walking swiftly over to her. "Do you HAVE a death wish? What are you doing out of bed, you could hurt yourself!" She tried to push her back towards the stairs, witch Catro promptly refused, smacking her hand away. " Keerava I'm okay, but I could use something to eat, and maybe something stiff to drink." She rubbed her side, looking down at the area. Keerava shook her head angrily. "I'll never understand what makes you so stubborn Catro. Honestly two days ago you couldn't even walk, and now your refusing to even sit down." Her eyes widened. "Two days? Was I out for two days? Two full days?" She asked with a shocked expression glued to her face. Keerava smiled, placing a hand on her friends shoulder. "That would explain why your so thirsty then hmm? Listen, go back upstairs, I'll bring you up some food. You need to rest, Catro. More then anything at this point." Reluctantly she nodded. Keerava walked back to the bar. She was still leaning heavily on the wall, enjoying the quite of the bar, closing her eyes for a few seconds. She looked down at her hand to see the long white strips of bandages still wrapped tightly around it. She gently clenched it, testing the amount of strength left. She turned, aiming to go back upstairs, then stopped, catching the stranger near the bar looking at her again. He had the cup up to his face, covering most of it so only his eyes were visible over the rim, but she could still see that he was looking over her way. He caught her gaze, raising an eyebrow and slightly lowering his cup. Keerava appeared from what seemed like thin air, gently taking Catro's good hand and guiding her up the stairs. She let herself be led up the stairs, disappearing around the corner and loosing sight of him.

Keerava led her back to the room, smiling brightly as she helped her friend sit back on the bed. She crossed her arms. "Now what would you like to eat? What ever you want just say it." Catro smiled back at her. "At the moment, how about some soup with a side of water? I don't know if anything else will stay down." Her friend nodded, then turned to fulfill the request. She stopped suddenly, halfway out the door, spinning back around. "I suppose I should return your bags." she hauled two leather bags away from the dresser and set them down beside her legs. She winked and left, leaving the door open behind her.

Catro rested her head back on the wall. She looked up at the ceiling of the small room, closing her eyes and sighing heavily. The room was unbearably quiet, and time seemed to be passing by unbearably slow. She glanced down at the bag that seemed to glare back up at her. Struggling a bit to lean over, she snatched it off the floor, hauling it onto the bed. But it wasn't her bag. She stared at Arien's old bag, its old ruffled leather exterior seemed to be glaring back at her. Reluctantly she undid the buckle, flipping the cover back. The bag was only about half full, so she reached into it, feeling around for anything at all. Her fingers brushed something cold. She grabbed it, pulling the heavy item out to investigate it. A chunk of obsidian sat in her hand. It gleamed in the light as she recalled the many times Arien had sharpened his sword with the same stone. She looked over every mark and every spot where it had chipped, turning it carefully through her hands, then set it beside the bag. Reaching in again she pulled out a small steel dagger. She began to feel sick again, recalling when they first met and how she had given him the exact weapon. He had been so grateful, fastening it to his belt and thanking her a hundred times over. Next her hands grasped a piece of thin paper, pulling it out to see the bounty for a group of bandits they had intended to go after. She read over the words carefully, then crumpled it, tossing it at the far wall of the room. The last item she pulled out was quite unique. It was a small deer antler fashioned into a long necklace, a small present from herself to him for his birthday. She set it down, rubbing her temples for a good couple of minutes in confusion. If he had intended to kill her the entire time, why keep all these items? Why pretend to care? She snapped her head back over to stare at the items, anger suddenly burning deep in her. That happened quite often, she lost control, letting her rage take over unintentionally. It was the dragon blood that ran through her veins that caused it, and therefore there was nothing she could do to stop it. She grabbed each item, throwing them all back into the bag and buckling it shut. A few moments later Keerava walked back in. Her arms were full with a large wooden tray, and on it sat a small bowl of soup, a chunk of bread, and a tall glass of water. Upon seeing her, Catro kicked the bag to the floor and looked straight into her friends eyes. "Do me a favor and destroy that bag. Burn it, throw it in a lake, I don't care just get rid of it." Keerava stared blankly for a few minutes, then set the tray on the night stand. "Are you sure about this?" She asked, clearly still a bit shocked. Catro nodded at her. She shrugged, then grabbed the sack, turning to leave. "Very well, I'll get Talen to watch the bar." She looked over her shoulder, an expression of sternness on her face. "Don't leave that bed." She said, exiting the room again.

Catro slumped back onto the bed. She reached up behind her, grabbing the soft chuck of bread and gnawing on it. The room was cozy, but incredibly dull to her. She was never one to take it easy, or rest for a few days. As soon as she could walk she wanted to be on the road again, off on some great adventure, traveling skyrim and causing all sorts of trouble. But things were going to be so much different now. Just like the way she hated to rest, she also hated being alone. Her fears meant nothing with someone else around to share them with her. Dark, dank crypts never seemed so bad when you knew that someone had your back the whole way. Of course she could handle herself against any foe that dared lift a blade at her, but would she be able to raise her sword back at them knowing that she had to do it alone? She finished the bread in a few bites, not realizing how hungry she was until it was gone. Sitting up she pulled the bowl over, and quickly beginning to devour its contents. She wiped her mouth with the side of her good hand, setting the now empty bowl back onto the tray with a dull thud of wood hitting wood. Finishing off the water she laid back down, suddenly becoming aware of how much her body hurt. Music had begun to drift up from downstairs, along with the sweet aroma of food, signaling that lunch had begun. She heard the door open a few times, and people talking to each other. Laughter could be heard quite often, and she could tell that the small inn was begging to get busy. Glancing out into the empty hallway, she let out a long sigh. What was she supposed to do now?

**Cliff hangers are fun. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, this is a very fun story to write and I hope you are enjoying it. Leave a review with some thought, suggestions, or whatever is on your mind. See you next time!**


	3. Bordom draws in Recruitment

**Hello there readers! I haven't been getting any feedback on this story, so If you could, please leave a review. I would really appreciate it. This is turning out to be really fun to write, I hop you're enjoying it as much as I am. Here's chapter 3, read away! **

The small Bar and Inn inside of Riften's large walls was always a calm yet lively place. Music wafted all around the guests as they drank, danced, or laughed there nights and days away. The food was delicious and cheap, even those who dwelled down in the sewers would often show up for some food and a good time. The occasional fight would keep action in the air. Brave souls who had often had one to many to drink took swings at each other. Crowds would gather and bet, and the winner would be showered in free drinks and praise. Even the loser would show good spirit, laughing at his own defeat and patting his opponent on the back. It was a friendly place, one where even the deepest of feuds could be looked over for even one day, and the darkest of troubles could be drank or danced away. The mornings were often very calm and quiet. Those who stayed the night would indulge in a good breakfast before being on there way to face whatever the day brought them. The afternoons were filled with those pouring in for lunch, and it was often the most calm time of day. Nights were the most active. Everyone went drinking, eating, making noise and having such a good time. Not a single solemn face could be found once the drinks started pouring and the music started play, but it was like hell when you couldn't participate in the fun. Catro laid in the bed, staring hatefully at the wooden ceiling above her. She had drifted in and out of consciousness the last few days, passing out for either hours or minutes. It was a sudden thing that she couldn't control, one minute she was sitting soundly, reading or eating, and a few seconds later she was passed out. Keerava had assured her it was from the loss of blood she had suffered, that she should take it easy for a few days. Catro had defiantly believed her, it was almost the death of her. She couldn't get the image out of her head of the way she looked on the long journey here. Her hand and side were both caked in blood that trickled down her sides, leaving a wide and blotched trail behind her in the snow. There was an abundance of pain and blood at the same time, and she was certain she was going to die, but she didn't. She had made it, surviving all the odds, and she had done it alone. The though terrified her as it clung to the back of her mind. She sat up, testing her shoulder and only getting a hint of pain from it and her side. She opened and closed her hand a few times, testing its strength. The one thing that did comfort her was the fact that she was healing, although it seemed to be dragging on for an eternity. Her feet hit the cold wooden floor as she stood gently. Standing caused her side to burn with pain, causing her to clutch the bandaged wound desperately, but she gritted her teeth, forcing herself all the way up. Keerava told her the gore filled details at her request. The slashes had both been close to fatal, the wound on her side was much deeper, but the slash on her shoulder was much closer to her neck, causing it to bleed more severely and rapidly. She should have died out there, alone in the cold snow with the bright stars glaring down on her. With barely the strength to stand she walked, but now as she sat in the small room, surrounded by the wooden walls and sounds of the bar, she was questioning every aspect of her life. Present and past.

She grabbed hold of the bed post, the pain began to turn dull as she hovered. Taking a timid step forward, she let go of the post, supporting the bandages with her hand and moving slowly toward the doorframe. Keerava had argued with her on and off about how dangerous it was to be moving again so fast, urging her friend to relax and let the wounds heal. Catro had argued right back, stating that the sooner she could walk again, the better. She tripped slightly, grabbing the door frame for support. This all seemed stupid to her. She had tried for many hours to devise a plan on what to do now. Strategy after countless strategy had passed itself through her mind, and every single one had lost her seal of approval. She hadn't made plans with Arien past Riften, they never planned very far ahead. She had her journal, full of various quests to be completed. They would sit around the fire for hours at night, talking, planning, laughing. Things had been looking up in both of there lives, and now that was all crushed to dirt under her feet. She had no family to confide in, no plan on where to go next. All she had was her bag, her swords, and the open, lonely road. Keerava was a wonderful friend, there was no mistaking that, but she didn't want to stay at the bar forever. The long hallway stretched out to both sides, one of them led to the stairs and the other rounded the corner to a small, two chair table. She put her hand on the wall, using it to support her weight as she moved towards the end that held the table. She took small steps in an effort to control her balance, one hand planted firmly to the wall and the other timidly outstretched to the side. Every time she tripped up fresh pain seared through her side, causing her to tighten her jaw. She grabbed the edge of the table, gently lowering herself into the wooden chair with a dull thud. The commotion downstairs was beginning to pick up again. Angrily she let out a long sigh, longing to join in the laughter and drink but held back by her injuries. A sudden thumping on the stairs caused her to look up. Keerava walked up the old stairs, a smile still planted firmly on her face and a cup in her hand. She walked over to Catro, handing her the mug. Catro smiled at her, reaching out and greatly taking it. "Good morning Catro, fixed that sleep schedule of yours yet?" They both laughed softly. Catro sipped the contents of the cup, enjoying the quite of the upstairs before the afternoon rush arrived. Keerava sat down in the vacant chair, letting out a yawn. She looked across the table at her friend, a serious look on her face. "How are you doing?" Catro stopped drinking and lowered her cup. She looked across the room, going quite for a small amount of time. "Do you want an honest answer?" She said, turning to her.

Keerava nodded, urging her to continue. Catro let out a large sigh, she set the cup down on the table. Her friend had been curious the last few days, about her heath, how she was dealing with everything, and her plans for what to do next. "I can't stay here long, I still have training to do, places I must travel to. It's by my choice and not by my choice at the same time. My blood keeps me sealed to a destiny I cannot escape." She shook her head. "I've been struggling with this for the past few days and I think I finally figured it out Keerava. I don't want to be alone, I can't even deal with the thought of it. But how am I ever supposed to trust anyone? I don't think I could take that." She looked up across the table, seeing Keerava stare back at her, a gentle smile on her face and a caring look gleaming in her eyes. "You know, its not very often you find people you can trust. There few and far between, and when you find them you want to hold to them close to you. it's the hardest thing to gain and the easiest thing to lose. Life isn't at all about what happens to you Catro, its about how you handle what happens." She stood. patting her friend gently on the shoulder. "You can come downstairs if your ready, I won't hold you back. Just promise me you'll be careful?" Catro nodded gratefully back at her. She turned to leave, then stopped, spinning around with a grin on her face. "I almost forgot, I have a little present for you!" She scampered into the small room that was her own. Catro blinked, very confused by what it could be, and also thinking over every word spoken to her. Keerava always had the best advice, she had zero doubts about that, but there was a bitter sweet truth about the whole ordeal. Trust was the hardest thing in the world to gain, not only that, but it was the easiest thing to lose. Keerava appeared again, something folded neatly in her hands. She extended her arms out to Catro who took the item, gasping at the sudden realization of what was in her arms. Her armor was neatly folded up. The rips on the shoulder and side were not only repaired, but enforced with thicker leather. The whole set was cleaned, and looked better then it ever had before. "I…I'm not sure what to say." She stammered out. Keerava laughed. "No thanks needed dear, I do need to return to work though. Go ahead and put it on, let me know how everything feels and fits." She walked down the stairs with a wave leaving Catro to stare in amazement at her patched armor. She stood with a small amount of effort, making her way back to the room. She pulled the chest piece over her head, grunting with the effort it took. She rhythmically fastened each buckle, feeling the extra padding and finding it quite comfortable. She slipped her boots on, buckling each of them tightly. The last piece was her arm braces. She slipped them on with ease, feeling the extra padding and noticing that it still fit perfectly. A sudden memory popped into her mind of when she first received it. She had equipped steel armor, but upon joining the thieves guild and receiving her armor, it had become the only thing she wanted to wear. She smiled to herself as the thought past. It had been quite a long time ago, but it felt so recent. He gaze fixed itself over to the stairs, and she walked slowly toward them. She grabbed the wooden railing, slowly making her way down the steps. The lunch rush had died down significantly, leaving only a few that were finishing a drink or their food. Keerava smiled at her from behind the counter, handing the man sitting at the bar his plate. Catro glanced around, there were five people left in all. Keerava and Talen made up two of them, tending to the bar in the late afternoon. Another was the man at the bar, she realized after a minute that it was the Riften blacksmith, sitting down to enjoy his lunch. Another was leaned up against the wall beside the bar, drinking quietly. And then there was one more man sitting close to the far door, kicking back in a chair. Something clicked in her mind, and she suddenly realized why he looked familiar. It was the same guy that had been sitting in the bar when she first woke up. He was sitting almost the exact same way, except he wasn't drinking anything, just rocking in the chair, obviously enjoying himself. She walked over to the first available table, gently sitting down with a sigh. She leaned her head back onto the wall, holding her side where a large amount of pain was still present. Keerava walked over and handed her a bottle of some sort. She reached out and took it, smiling at her friend. She looked down to realize that it was a small bottle of mead. She tipped it slightly in a quick thanks and then brought the chilled bottle to her lips.

The blacksmith finished his food quite fast, he paid the tab and turned around to head out the door. As he walked, he glanced over to see her sitting in the chair. A smile crossed his face in an instant, and he slowed his pace. "Catro! When did you blow into town?" His voice was very deep and loud, but she smiled up at him. Balimund was a good man, they had helped each other out in the past and we're both very grateful to each other for it. "Few days ago, how's business been?" She asked. He laughed at that. "Oh the usual, I still have a forge, I still have steel for sale." He chuckled. "Well I best get back to the old thing, much work to do and the day is still young, see you around!" He called, closing the door behind him. She shook her head with a smile, glancing over to see what Keerava was up to. The bar was quiet and empty. Talen was sweeping quietly, Keerava was wiping a few cups, and neither of the other men had moved. Catro was enjoying the quite, but all good things end eventually. She started to feel dizzy and tired. Standing with great effort, she shook her head, heading back up the stairs. Keerava had noticed her sudden mood change from across the bar. She set the cup down and started walking towards the stairs. Catro reached the top, dragging herself into her room. She meant to sit down on the bed, but instead, she collapsed.

_**/**_

About two hours past when she woke up again. She sat up suddenly, panting as sweat poured down her face as she grabbed the sheets. Keerava was right beside her bed, startled when she jumped awake so suddenly. "Catro are you alright? What happened?" she asked, a concerned look planted on her face. She was still panting, but shaking it off she looked over at her. "I don't know, I collapsed." She gritted her teeth. "I think I just had the worst nightmare imaginable." She looked out into the hallway, hating herself for collapsing again. "I need to get out of this place, but at the same time I have no where to go." She punched the wall angrily. Keerava looked over at her for awhile. "Catro, it's not your fault you know." She said suddenly. Catro glanced back over at her. "What do you mean?" she asked. "You didn't kill him, if anything, he killed himself. Let it go Catro, it's not your fault." She froze up. That was exactly what had been traveling through her mind, what her dream had revolved around. She let out a sigh. "I'm not promising anything, but I'll try." Keerava smiled "That's what I like to hear." Catro sat up a bit more on the bed, a question suddenly flickering in her mind. "Can I ask you something?" she said. "What is it?" She messed with a buckle on her jacket. "I keep seeing the same person every time I attempt to go downstairs, and he was here when I first showed up. Maybe you can tell me who he is." She said. Did he have a room here or was he after her? It wasn't an uncommon thing to have people after her. She had countless thugs and bandits sent after her before, and it left her paranoid of anyone she saw more then twice in a number of days. Keerava laughed a bit, obviously she knew why her friend was paranoid. "I don't think he's after you dear, that's just Marcurio. He's been here for about a month." She let out a sigh of relief. "What exactly is he doing here?" She asked, still curious about details. Keerava's laughter died down and ended with a light chuckle. "He's a mage from Cyrodil, I think he's looking for work. And he better find a job soon with all the ale he keeps drinking." They both laughed a bit. There was a bit of silence when Keerava suddenly looked over to her. "He's up for mercenary work you know, I'm sure he wouldn't mind traveling a bit." Catro knew exactly where this conversation was headed. "I already told you that it will take me awhile before I trust anyone again." Her friend sat back in her chair, thinking. "Very true." she said "But as I also recall, your leaving soon, and I know you don't want to go alone." Catro let out a long sigh, she was right about that. She looked up at the ceiling, knowing that her friend was absolutely right. didn't want to be alone. "Fine. But if I get killed, its your fault and you own me a drink for getting me into another mess." Keerava chuckled. "Deal."

_**/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/**_

The next morning was much better for everyone. The bar was having great business as usual, Catro felt better then the previous days, and the temperature was near perfect. Catro once again made her way down the stairs, hoping onto a barstool for breakfast. The mage in question was sitting at a table, his feet on the ground for once. Catro grabbed an apple out of the bowl, scarfing it down and reaching for another. She hadn't eaten much in the last few days and the hunger had just now caught up to her. After the fourth was gone, she asked Keerava to pass her some ale. She sipped the contents, then set down the bottle and stretched her arms. It was early in the morning, and those that ate breakfast regularly had not yet shown up. She glanced over her shoulder. He was still sitting there, pushing his cup around the table. She looked at him for about a minute, then getting up, she walked over to the table he was seated at. He looked over at her. "You're a mage correct?" she asked. He smirked. "Indeed I am, who's asking?" "I seem to be in need of a companion." She said. "Up for the challenge?" He smirked again, wider this time "For the right price." She had to crack at smile at that, he was proving to be very entertaining. "Alright then, how much are you asking?" He picked up the cup, sipping mead out of it. "Five hundred septum's, do we have ourselves a deal?" She reached into one of the larger pockets on her coat, handing him a bag of coins witch he greatly accepted. "Onward then, when do we leave?" She buckled the pocket closed again. "At least let me finish my drink first, then we can go." He laughed softly as she walked back over to the bar, grabbing the bottle up and emptying the last bit into her mouth. "Alright Keerava how much do I owe you?" She said, reaching into another pocket. "Keep your money to yourself Catro, your alright and that's all that matters to me." She sighed. "Alright, I'll go grab my stuff. And Keerava, thank you." She nodded at her friend, and then turned to the stairs.

The first thing she grabbed were her two ebony swords. She fastened them tightly to her each of her sides, testing that they could easily be sheathed and removed. She grabbed her bag, pulling the straps over each of her shoulders. Keerava had given her a new bed roll that was fastened securely to the top. She secured her amulet of Talos around her neck, then taking one last glance at the room, she left. She reached the end of the stairs, turning to see her new companion hand some coins to Keerava. She smiled and counted up the coins, ensuring that he was free to go. He turned to see her walking over, they were almost the same height, he was just slightly taller. "Well then, lead the way." he said, crossing his arms. She turned, motioning for him to follow out the door. Riften was a busy little town. People went about there business, working stands in the marketplace or heading out to the docks for there job at the fishery. Catro walked over to Balimund's forge, getting a few glances from people she knew or people that knew who she was. Balimund looked up as she approached, smiling brightly. "What brings you to my forge then?" he said, setting down the pair of iron tongs he was using. She smiled back at him. "Do you still have those daggers from awhile back?" She asked. He put hi hand on his chin in thought. "Ah yes, those little beauties. Let me go grab em." he said, walking inside his house. He appeared a few seconds later with a box in his hands. In it sat several daggers, each unique in its own way. She looked over her shoulder to Marcurio. "Alright, pick one out." He blinked, confused at first, but deciding to go along with it. There was a nice selection, including ebony, orchish, glass, steel, and iron. He picked up the glass one, not liking the way it felt, and placing it back. He looked for a second, then picked up the ebony. It seemed to fit right tin his hand, and the weight was perfect. "Ebony works." He said. Catro reached into her pocket, pulling out the septum's to pay for it. Balimund called out a thank you as they walked away. "Why a dagger?" he said as they continued for the main gate. "Just incase you ever find yourself in need of one. You never know what's going to happened. Catro pushed the gate open, heading out onto the main road. When it came to the split, she headed the opposite way that she had traveled. "Huh, looks like traces of blood in the snow." He remarked as they walked. Catro gritted her teeth. "That would be from me." she snarled out. "Damn, what did you get into?" He said, chuckling with a lighthearted tone. She smirked. He didn't inquire what happened, why she was bleeding. He didn't question her at all, he made a joke. "So if you don't mind me asking, where are we headed?" He asked. He was walking directly beside her as they continued along. "I'm not entirely sure." she admitted. "We could head towards Windhelm, I have business there, and then to Whiterun." He was quite for a few seconds. "Sounds good to me." He finally said. "I haven't been to most of Skyrim, I could use a tour." She thought for a moment about what he had just said. "Are you familiar with the war?" She asked, waiting patiently for his answer. She knew he was from Cyrodil, so there was a good chance he sided with the Imperials. But even though she was born in Cyrodil herself, the Stormcloaks were who she fought, bled, and would die for. He finally spoke up. "Well I lived in Cyrodil ever since I was a kid, but honestly I've always held a certain amount of hatred for the Empire. Moved to Skyrim to get as far away from that place as possible." That was defiantly the answer she was looking for. "You and me both." They continued on in silence. Catro was enjoying it, not minding the occasional question he asked, and grateful to be out on the road again. "Cave up ahead." He said suddenly. She had let her mind wander and hadn't seen the opening. "Feel like exploring it?" He said, optimism floating in his voice. She would have brushed it off, but he was proving to become very convincing, and incredibly optimistic about everything. She glanced over at the opening, weighing her options on what to do. "Not just yet." She said finally. "Lets find one that looks like its worth checking out." He shrugged. "Fine with me, as long as its not a mine." She looked over in his direction, smirking at what he just said. "Do we have a problem with mines?" She said. He rolled his eyes at her comment and she started laughing.

The road they took was long and winded. Birds and bugs fluttered through the air and rays of sun shown down brightly through the trees. Catro lived for the beauty that traveling brought her. She longed to see large roaring waterfalls crashing down into rocks, forests littered with wildlife and flowers, and beautiful sunsets behind breathtakingly tall mountains. She liked to pay attention to detail, studying each flower and insect carefully as she walked past it. The morning was crisp and fresh, the day itself was young and ripe for ambition. The pathway split suddenly, forking off in two directions. She looked to the wooden post that gave directions to each hold. One pointed towards Riften, back the way they had come, and the two pointed towards Windhelm and Winterhold. She turned, looking down the long roads, debating witch way to go. Either way had potential, proving new challenges for her, new battles to be fought, and gold to be found. A voice beside her suddenly snapped her out of thought. "Winterhold huh." Marcurio muttered. "Isn't that where the mage college is?" She tensed up at that. "Yes. It is, I'd rather not go there if you don't mind." She started down the road before he could say anything else. He ran slightly to catch up to her. "Why not?" He asked. It was a simple question, one she would have gladly answered a few day before. Now it did nothing but pester her, bringing up memories she wanted to repress. She shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it." she said, looking down at the ground as they continued. It became quiet for awhile, the only sound being that of the forest around them. "I'm sorry." He muttered suddenly. It didn't seem very heartfelt, but it was sincere. She looked over at him, and let out a sigh. "Winterhold use to bring me a lot of good memories, and now the same memories that use to make me smile rip me apart from the inside out." She looked up at the road. "I guess I owe you an explanation." "Only if you ant to tell me, I won't force it out of you." He said. "Though I would like to know." She smiled slightly at that, noticing how curious he was. "Aright, you should know that you're not the first follower I've had." She said, beginning the story. "For about a year I traveled with someone else. If I've ever had a best friend in my life, It was Arien. We did everything together, whether it was trouble, or helping people. We fought bears and bandits, giants, everything imaginable." She stopped talking for a minute. "He was my best friend, and I met him in Winterhold." There was silence again. She could tell that he was thinking about everything she had just said. Then he asked the question she was waiting for. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to him." Catro opened her mouth to speak when a sudden sound caught her ears. She slowed significantly, causing him to do the same. The round in front of them slanted upwards, and then rounded a large rock that jutted out slightly onto the path. The two crept closer, listening closely. Catro's hand instinctively went to her sword, ready for a fight if necessary. The closer they crept, the more clearly the sound can through. Two voices carried from behind the boulder. Both were very deep, giving them the obvious conclusion that they were men. One spoke with a gravely tone, the others voice was slightly higher pitched and flowed smoother through the air. As they neared the rock, she began to make out the conversation between.

The man with the gravely voice spoke first, he sounded much like an Orc, and there was a certain confidence in his voice that left her uneasy. "Do you think he boss will be upset we didn't bring anyone back alive this time?" He said. There was dead silence for about a minute before the other spoke up. " I wouldn't concern yourself with such things, the last three caravans we raided brought back a slew of supplies and people, I doubt that one little death will do more then damper his mood." The closer they crept the more the words came threw. The sound of a bottle popping open filled Catro's ears as she continued to listen, Marcurio doing the same beside her. Catro put her hand up, a signal for him to stop as she peered around the rock. He nodded and readied a spell to be safe. Catro moved slowly around the rock, careful not to be seen. Almost a year now she had been part of the thieves guild, and the skills she had learned had proved most useful in combat. She stuck to the shadow the large boulder cast, the two finally coming into sight. She easily assed that they were bandits. Each wore fur armor, long steel sword strapped to each of there hips. Her theory about one of the men came true.

The scene before her was quite a lot to behold. A very tall Orc stood closest to her spot, he kicked a metal cup toward the overturned wagon with a dull _clang_, his arms crossed in what appeared to be boredom. The wooden cart that lay overturned to the left side of the road was accompanied by a dead horse and the corpse of a man. The other man was not as tall but had the muscle power to compensate for it. He was chugging a bottle of mead no to far from the first man. They both appeared to be pretty young, but it was difficult to tell how experienced in battle they were. Catro closed her eyes briefly, drawing in a deep breath then steadily let it out as her eyes snapped back open. The first man walked with a sense of insecurity, his arms now dropped at his sides, his posture calm yet tense. His eyes wandered off in the distance, giving him away as someone very inexperienced in battle. She fixed her eyes onto the second man, taking in each of his features. His body languages varied severely, each aspect completely different. He had not dropped his guard in the least bit, yet careless drank the remaining alcohol and throwing the bottle to the ground. Wiping his face, he rested his hands on the sword sheaths at his sides. He was far more advanced then his Orc friend, his skill aged through years and battles won. Catro snuck backwards, careful still not to draw attention to the area. She turned to her new follower, whispering a plan for them to carry out. "The Orc is obviously the weaker of the two, I doubt he's seen much battle in his life. Our main concern is his friend, I suggest we put him down before they know we're here." She draw the bow off her back and a long ebony arrow. "Why not take them both out at once." He suggested. "I can take the Orc out, you aim for the other man." She considered his plan, then nodded. They crept back to the spot where she had previously been spying. The two bandits hadn't moved much, still pondering over the kill they had just made. Catro drew her arrow out, aiming for the man farther away from them as Marcurio conjured a small orb of fire in between his hands. She lined the arrow up for his chest, breathing out slowly and pulling back and the bowstring. It made a slight stretching noise as she closed one of her eyes. Then, she released the string. The arrow flew swiftly through the air, piercing the bandits heart and protruding through the other side. He dropped down to his knees, then fell to the ground dead. Before the Orc could react, a blast of fire hit him directly in the back, knocking him a few feet forward and slamming his limp body hard into the cold ground. The stood fully from the hiding spot. Catro walked over to the man she had taken out, pushing him over with her foot. She glanced over to see Marcurio doing the same. She walked over to the cart, staring at its contents. The man that had been slain by the two bandits was obviously a traveling farmer. The cart that lay overturned held spilled crates of fresh produce, a few hoes and brooms, and a small crate of clothes. He obviously didn't have much to his name, but she did find a small purse of gold under the clothing. She sighed, shaking her head at all the madness in Skyrim these days. She walked toward the body of the Orc Marcurio was still standing by. "Shall we continue?" she asked, fastening her bow back onto he back. He dusted his hands off, smiling optimistically. "Lets." and then they were off again.


End file.
